A smarter move would have been a lower-profile place, like the Flea or the Rattlestick, which would have provided a nurturing environment away from the media glare.

Because right now there’s a thousand-watt klieg light turned on this show, making it easy for everybody to see its weaknesses.

For starters, couldn’t anybody tell the rookie author that fart jokes just aren’t that funny?

And of course it’s the regal-looking Danner who’s saddled with flatulence — because gassy older people are just hilarious, especially when played by Gwyneth Paltrow’s real-life mom.

Danner’s Judith has moved to a cheap Florida condo after being ruined and discredited by her
Madoff-like husband.

Judith’s daughter Becca (Parker) has just flown in for Thanksgiving with her younger boyfriend, Gabe (Michael Stahl-David). But they’ve come with an agenda: They want to make a “docu-
series” about Judith’s downfall. Becca really needs the money — her own TV career has collapsed to the point that she’s living in her car.

Parker is excellent, and unexpectedly poignant, as a woman at the end of her rope. With her gaunt face and lank hair, the bedraggled Becca looks beaten up by life. But Parker has genuine presence, and, even in this dour role, she fills the stage with
energy.

It’s also fun to see her engage with Danner, with whom she has a warm stage rapport — the two last paired in A.R. Gurney’s 1995 “Sylvia,” in which Parker played a dog.

Here she and everyone else are chained to witless dialogue and clichés.

With all this nonsense sucking up oxygen, Peet misses her story’s heart — the fraught relationship between Becca and her mother. Both have seen better days, and both struggle to keep up a brave front. You want to know more about these women, who deserve better than what Peet’s play gives them.

Becca and Judith may have tried to celebrate Thanksgiving, but we’re the ones stuck with the
turkey.